


The One With The Chicken

by littledevilboy



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And Dante made Nero do it, Crack Treated Seriously, Dadgil, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, One Shot, Parent Vergil (Devil May Cry), Post-Devil May Cry 5, Unnus Annus made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28761717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littledevilboy/pseuds/littledevilboy
Summary: Nero finds something on the internet and to his father's disappointment Dante decides to put that something to the test.
Relationships: Dante & Nero (Devil May Cry), Dante & V (Devil May Cry), Dante & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Nero & V (Devil May Cry), Nero & Vergil (Devil May Cry), Vergil & V (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	The One With The Chicken

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so hi. This is my first ever fanfic that took me MONTHS to write, but i'm super proud I stayed committed instead of yeeting it in the trash. Tell me what you think and please, be nice? :'D
> 
> Note 1: This oneshot is mostly canon following the plot of DMC5. The divergence aspect is only that of V having came into the picture after Vergil tried to deal with a traumatic episode (not depicted) and got more than he expected. 
> 
> Note 2: For my readers who might be interested in watching the inspiration for this fic. https://youtu.be/zrnhEhzsYIg

It’s a day like any other at the Devil May Cry office.

Vergil is sitting in his favorite reading chair, positioned in the corner of his bedroom. His midnight curtains are parted, filling the well kempt space with warm rays of midday sunlight. A portion of that light shines onto the worn open pages of his signature ‘ V ‘ tome, though the book is not the only thing casted aglow. 

Accompanying Vergil is a small snow white wavy haired babe, his youngest son, Vitale, seated comfortably in his lap and being recited the works of his father’s favorite poet. The child may not appear genuinely interested, but in Vergil’s defense his son is audibly being fed a pleasant variety of words for later vocabulary. 

That is part of the whole child development process, right? For children to learn how to talk and read? Certainly oneself can not go wrong with good old fashioned poetry. 

Even Nero showed remote curiosity in the art when the twins returned from a job one afternoon. Vergil caught sight of his older boy on the office sofa calmly studying the tome’s contents. Of course that was before he noticed Vergil which caused Nero to suddenly toss the item aside. It’s as if he just got caught looking at one of Dante’s questionable magazines, and if Nero briefly swiping his thumb across his nose- which Vergil noted a habit his son does whenever he became nervous or embarrassed- wasn’t an indication that he felt almost guilty--

No. There is no reason to be guilty over liking poetry. 

If Vergil has half a mind to reassure Nero about it, he would. 

No, he could. 

Except if he introduces Vitale to the magnificent artform, the result following after could present a more familiar feeling for Nero. Allowing the children to bond over something he co-existingly enjoys will be a lot easier than awkwardly connecting with Nero himself.

It’s for the boy’s sake, not his. 

When Vergil reaches the bottom of the last poem he takes a pause to silently gaze down at the toddler still in his lap. He lifts a hand to gently card through Vitale’s near glistening hair as the child’s illuminated eyes observe the room all the while mindlessly nibbling on a couple tiny fingers. 

So beautiful and pure…

Almost in an angelic sort of way, though the dark slayer’s kin are anything but. 

What they are, however, are his. 

Not once did Vergil predict this would be his life; living with Dante- aka the very person who he never imagined to see again, and being a father to not one, but two kids; one he was oblivious of for 25 years and another who, well, magically came to exist after he had a bit of an episode.

The Yamato wouldn’t bless him with the sweet release of death, however, it managed to bless him with a sweet personification of humanity. 

And boy, did he have some serious explaining to do afterwards. 

If he had known about Nero a lot earlier he could’ve been more motivated at the idea of parenting, but even now his full-fledged adult son deserved familial acknowledgement. It’s the least Vergil can do in his late awareness of the extended bloodline, and deep down he’s willing to admit one of the mightiest forms of power comes not from raising a demonic pillar of sorts, but assisting in the creation of new life. 

After all, his own father, the almighty and powerful Sparda, did it. Without him, Vergil (and Dante) and their own expanse of power would cease to exist. Sparda wasn’t exactly the best father, but Vergil honestly can’t see himself as such anymore less than the dark knight was. However, nothing is going to stop the dark slayer from being a responsible one.

‘ My sons… ‘ He muses with a hint of a smile, continuing to thread his slender digits through Vitale’s wavy locks.

A loud clang from downstairs shatters the tranquility just then. In turn that momentary smile quickly fades into a disapproving frown as narrowed pale blue eyes meet full on with curious emerald greens. 

“ I sincerely doubt anything that is considered good can be happening down there. “

x x x x

“ Go, go, go, go, go! “ 

“ What do you want me to do?! “

“ Hit it, hit it, hit it! No! Not like that! Like this! “

What in the…

The look of disapproval sets itself deeper as Vergil enters the kitchen.

Standing next to the stove was Nero watching onward, brows pinched together at a determined Dante who is…

Repeatedly smacking a raw chicken. 

Or better known as that evening’s dinner.

Whether or not the imbecile is aware of the bird’s purpose, it makes no difference as Vergil hovers for a solid minute before questioning the scene.

“ Dare I ask what it is you are doing, Dante? “, the presence of his nasally voice automatically redirects the other family members’ attention. 

Dante abruptly stops to flash his twin his famous grin. “ Oh hey, Verge! Me and the kid were just about to conduct a little experiment on this here chicken! “, he announces, once more landing a firm smack to the raw poultry. 

The sound practically echoes, causing Vergil to close his eyes and resist immediately ordering his twin to put tonight’s dinner back in the fridge. As much as he wants to, he still demands an explanation. Food is not meant to be played with, as their mother had ever so rightfully told Dante. 

Albeit with Dante being, well, Dante, it’s nonetheless expected witnessing such childish antics decades later. 

“ And I assume this is your foolish idea? “, Vergil calmly inquires. 

From the sidelines Nero briefly swipes his nose. “ Actually, “ the young devil hunter sheepishly begins, “ I kinda was the one who brought it up… “

Every ounce of suspicion behind a hardened stare had now turned onto his son. 

Nero scratches the back of his head, his line of sight lingering anywhere but his father. “ I was just scrolling through my phone and... happened to come across something- “

“ Which was? “, Vergil’s uncomfortably even tone interjected. 

“ ...S’pposedly you can cook a chicken by...smacking it a bunch of times. Look, I was curious and accidentally thought it out loud, okay? “, Nero huffs, turning his head to his uncle. “ S’not my fault the old man wanted to test the theory out for himself. “

Perhaps a major part of this is his twin’s idea, after all. 

“ Aw come on, kid! Are you not the least bit curious in finding out if we can cook this thing with just our bare hands? “, Dante holds his hands up, shaking them in exaggerated excitement. “ You can even use that glowing set of arms you got! “ 

Nero will admit, underneath all his reluctance he is curious, and thinking back to the very post which brought this situation forward he read something particularly intriguing; there is a slim chance a whole chicken can be cooked at the high velocity of a single hit. 

But hands aren’t capable of that amount of force, are they? 

Maybe, just maybe Dante was onto something with his spectral arms. 

But would there even be a substantial difference? The one hitter method had to be hard and fast and--

A thought suddenly strikes the young hunter’s mind, etching a light smirk atop his features. “ What if we hit it with your bike? “ 

If said situation didn’t involve their dinner, envisioning the idea alongside seeing Dante’s mouth hang agape would threaten a smirk to pull at Vergil’s own lips. 

“ A-are you serious?! “, the younger Sparda twin manages to exclaim. “ My job is to go out hunting for demons, not to bring demons to me! “ 

A good point. Who’s to say demons didn’t fancy birds once in a while? The crew can live without those bastards following the stench of rotten leftovers back to the office. 

Yet that didn’t cease the exasperation rising in his nephew’s temperamental mind. “ Well I ain’t gonna stand here all afternoon slapping a goddamn chicken! “ 

Nero can think of plenty of other things he’d rather be doing, and Vergil internally agrees. Right now he would still be reading the best verses of William Blake to the small child currently secured in his arms. Instead he’s trying not to imagine future Vitale going about cooking in ridiculous fashion from early influences of his incompetent uncle. 

The little doe eyed boy hasn’t a single clue what’s going on, though it’s still better to be safe than sorry.

Dare Vergil even wonder where his unmanageable brother’s hands have been prior to touching their unprepared food?

He shuts his mouth as quick as he opens it when the aforementioned sibling rebounds from his astoundment with a loud clap. 

“ What if we dropped it from the second floor? “ 

And so Vergil sighs. 

Nero, on the other hand, has to blink thrice. “ What? But- Dante, that’s just gonna make a mess! “

To the red cladded devil, he thought himself clever, but currently his nephew is casting a wary side glance in Vergil’s direction. He doesn’t have to meet his father’s threatening glare to pick up on the utter displeasure rolling throughout his person, and to go through with this plan meant that serious consequences are to follow-- mainly on Dante’s behalf. 

Mayhaps Dante gets a sick kick out of pushing his twin’s buttons. 

Certainly Vergil shares a similar kick with wanting to stab his irksome brother every time.

Nero has half a mind to tell his uncle to put the chicken back in hopes to spare Vitale from a possibly gruesome unfolding. Unfortunately, he cannot put out his words fast enough when said uncle picks up the chicken, tucks it under one arm and lands an encouraging pat on Nero’s shoulder as he briskly walks past everyone out of the kitchen. 

“ C’mon, kiddo! I’m going to need some extra hands for this! “ 

And so Nero reluctantly follows with a sigh.

x x x x 

“ Alright, make sure to smack this bird real hard, Nero! “, Dante says, steadily holding the chicken over the second floor railing before muttering, “ I honestly don’t know how many tries we have at this… “ 

“ Yeah, okay, whatever. Just drop the damn thing already! “, his nephew impatiently replies below, cracking his blue spectral knuckles in opposition to still internally viewing the whole thing as a dumb idea. 

He can practically feel his father’s prolonged stare burning into them a short distance from the landing zone. 

‘ Damnit. I shoulda just kept my mouth shut… ‘

On the count of three, Dante drops the six pound bomb that is the chicken from his post. Nero pushes back his regret long enough to reel his right spectral, landing a hard hit on the naked bird carcass with a determined grunt. A split second later it touches the ground, still very raw and surprising neither him nor Vergil. 

Dante hums in thought, “ I don’t smell any cooked chicken yet! “ 

Leave it to the legendary devil hunter himself to pointlessly call out the obvious.

“ Here, kid, toss that hunk of meat up here! “, he encourages with a couple resounding claps. 

Begrudgingly, Nero picks up the chicken, shaking his head all the while. From his peripheral he spies Vitale trying to move the hand that is currently splayed over Vergil’s face. 

Nero inwardly chuckles, ‘ Good to know the feeling’s mutual. ‘ then with a hefty lift, tosses the chicken high enough in the air for his relative to catch it. 

The pattern of smacks, thuds, tosses and drops accompanied by the occasional grunt repeats for the next few minutes as the uncooked chicken undergoes a series of unexpected abuse. Little bits of their food begin to fall apart with Dante saying something preposterous along the lines of; “ I got some of it’s butt! “ in between the destruction. At one point he partially activates his devil trigger in his arm to land a burning slap to the chicken’s flesh. It turns noticeably charred, coaxing the red devil with a successful sounding whoop to repeat the action a couple times.

“ Aw yeah, now we’re getting somewhere! “ 

All Vergil can think of is how grateful that bird must be to be dead.

The next time Vergil gets his chance to fight- no, “ spar “- with Dante, he’s going to ensure that his dear brother gets the same treatment. He's going to make him sleep like the dead afterwards and spare him the future misfortune of witnessing another ridiculous pre-dinner act.

Just how are they related again? 

It’s Vitale’s turn to cover his porcelain features with his tiny hand. 

‘ How adorable. ‘, Vergil mentally comments, eyes with the slightest hint of softness casted onto the small child as his free hand once more cards through the boy’s snow colored hair. 

“ I told you doing this was gonna make a mess! “

Mayhaps Vitale did have a reason to facepalm. Once Vergil lifts his head to the irritated voice of his oldest son, sure enough there was a mess of now burnt poultry littered on the dirty floor near Dante’s desk. His current expression is indecipherable, though already he’s made a fair decision on how to approach the disgraceful aftermath.

“ Hey, but we figured out how to cook the thing with just our hands, didn’t we? “, Dante says, victory evident in his tone. 

Vergil steps closer, careful not to get any bird remnants on his boots. “ You did anything but properly prepare what was originally intended to be this evening’s meal, brother. “, he corrects, squinting upwards at his twin. 

In a playful manner, Dante mirrors the squinting, “ Aw Verge, you also can’t tell me that you weren’t the least bit curious- “

“ Why would I be curious? “, Vergil abruptly questions, knowing well that Dante wouldn’t be able to form a good enough response to validate his assumption on the matter- so he closes his mouth. Vergil reaches into his coat pocket, extracting a bit of money to hand to Nero, “ I refuse to conform to Dante’s diet, so you and him are in charge of retrieving another chicken for dinner. “, he says before briefly glancing at the floor, “ I’ll take care of the mess. “ 

The young devil hunter tries to read his father’s typically stoned face, searching for even the most subtle sign of disappointment as a result of not backing out from the beginning. This whole situation could have easily been avoided if he did.

Mayhaps it didn’t matter, Nero was just given money to put towards a quick errand. This couldn’t be punishment- even Kyrie gives him money for errands since she knows he’s kind enough to do them for her. 

Not to forget, Kyrie has put all her trust in Nero. 

So is this Vergil’s way of saying that he can trust Nero, as well? 

He has to be overthinking- could he be overthinking? This can’t be anymore than a task- Vergil can’t possibly put his trust on Nero this soon--

“ Nero. “

He didn’t realize he got trapped in his thoughts; long having dropped his sight to his palm until the lighthearted way Vergil said his name snapped him back to reality. He blinks then grips the money securely prior to responding with a firm nod of his head. “ Got it. “ he equips a subtle smirk, extending his other hand to ruffle Vitale’s silky locks then stride in the direction of the front door, “ C’mon, Dante! Let’s go fetch this bird. “ 

Once he hears the door shut, Vergil gets right to work; whipping out his blue scaled devil tail to hold onto Vitale while he uses the availability of both arms to sweep up and dispose of the no longer edible chicken. 

Again, he did not predict this would be his life, though the more he thinks about what he never suspected to have, he can’t help to display that of a rare genuine smile. 

HIs family is far from the average kind, and for all the crazy days he spends with them, admittedly Vergil wouldn’t want it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> A moment of silence for the chicken that died for our sins.


End file.
